


By Blood and By Mean

by moviescriptendings



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, McGee POV, Somalia, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 18:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1195848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moviescriptendings/pseuds/moviescriptendings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McGee thinks maybe Tony can only handle enough grief for one person, so he has to retreat when the rest of them start feeling it too. One shot about the summer Ziva died and everyone went nuts, from McGee's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Blood and By Mean

i.

 _Down in a storm. Coast of Somalia. No survivors_.

ii.

He'd expected it to hurt, of course. When Kate died it hurt, like someone had punched him in the gut and knocked all the wind out of him. But when Ziva dies all the air gets sucked from the room, and he's almost grateful for the distraction of catching Abby as she crumples and sobs into his shoulder. So he doesn't notice when Tony sinks to the ground, when Gibbs gently takes him by the arm and walks him out of the lab, when the sound of retching comes from the hallway. He hears the word "no", something between a moan and a wail, and then a murmured response. A sharp thud, then silence.

Much later, Abby is calmer and McGee passes a fist-sized hole in the wall on his way back to the elevator. When he gets back to his desk, Tony is sitting rigidly in his chair, typing with a bloody right hand and teeth clenched so hard McGee can see the muscle bulging.

"Tony-" he begins.

"McGee." Gibbs appears out of nowhere, shoves a file at his chest. "Take this to Ducky."

He knows better than to protest. On his way back downstairs McGee steals another look at his partner, whose expression is one of careful control and a sharp contrast to the concerned, sad appearance of his superior. The empty desk is the loudest thing in the room.

iii.

As time goes by McGee starts finding Tony's favorite hiding places. When they're all hit particularly hard with a memory of her, when it gets to be too much, Tony's expression slips for just a second and he turns without word, walks away. McGee thinks maybe Tony can only handle enough grief for one person, so he has to retreat when the rest of them start feeling it too. Sometimes McGee finds him in the stairwell with his chin on his knees, eyes closed, and the pain radiates from him like an aura.

After a while, Tony starts favoring the elevator so McGee starts taking the stairs.

iv.

One night after work he gets a message from Abby asking him to meet her in Autopsy and when he walks through the glass doors he cringes. Flickering candles cover every available surface except for the middle table, which features a framed crime scene candid of Ziva. There are flowers surrounding the photograph and McGee isn't sure whether to laugh or swallow the lump that has just formed in his throat. It's utterly ridiculous, even for Abby. And it isn't the most flattering picture of Ziva, either, though her murderous expression is certainly accurate. The only other two people in the room are Ducky and Palmer, the latter of which is surveying the scene with a similar look of unease.

When Abby spots him she grabs his hand. "You're here! You're late!"

"A vigil, Abby, really?" he asks.

"We don't even have a body to bury, McGee." Abby tells him patiently. "It's very important to go through the grieving process properly."

"Even if there was a body to bury, it would be in Israel-"

"It's a beautiful idea, Abigail," Ducky humors her, ending the argument.

"Where's Tony?" Palmer asks.

Abby looks guilty. "The elevator."

"What set him off this time?" Ducky's voice is grim.

"I invited him…"

"Abby!" McGee shakes his head.

"He would benefit from this the most! I don't like how he gets, it's all quiet rage like Gibbs on steroids. He needs to grieve, but he won't talk to me and he never cries and I don't know what else to do." She looks on the verge of tears, and he can't really fault her for dealing with this in her own way. It would be easier for all of them to deal with if Tony just looked the part- maybe stopped shaving, stopping ironing his stupid expensive suits- but he always showed up for work more or less on time and more or less presentable if you didn't count the circles beneath his eyes. McGee even made sure to sniff inconspicuously for alcohol, but there was nothing. Which is exactly the problem, really. Tony's expression never varies from blank and unseeing. It was like working with a robot. It is the exact opposite of that summer when Gibbs left, when they strengthened as a team and banded together so they wouldn't fall apart. Instead of campfires and solidarity, they're unraveling. Except Ducky. Ducky is explaining cultural mourning rituals for lovers and then Palmer says, "Oh, are we allowed to talk about that now?" and McGee decides he's officially had enough, it's time to start drinking.

v.

One day, Gibbs is trying to use the copier when he abruptly gives up and begins beating the machine with bare fists. Ducky comes to tend to his bloody knuckles and a technician is called to tend to the dents in the copier. McGee smiles before he can stop himself, remembering _standard Mossad-style copy machine assault tactics_ , and apparently so does his partner because all the color drains from Tony's face and then he's halfway to the elevator with a twisted expression before anyone can say _this has all gone to hell._

vi.

Eventually it all starts to feel normal: working in silence, acknowledging the new agent assigned to Ziva's desk since no one else on his team will, redirecting the work crew away from the elevator every time it shudders to a stop mid-floor; hoping, desperately, that everyone will just keep it together long enough to solve another case, do their paperwork, go on living. Then one morning Gibbs tells them to grab their gear and Tony gets to his feet and says no.

"No?" Gibbs almost looks amused, which McGee finds almost as unnerving as the new look of defiance on Tony's face.

"We have an obligation," Tony says. "Saleem Ulman's got to be stopped. Before one more person dies." He winces as he says it, but he doesn't bolt.

Gibbs nods. "Make your case."

Something clicks into place. Tony throws himself into the plan with the kind of obsessive determination McGee didn't realize he'd missed. There is new fire in his voice, color returning to his cheeks. He could almost be described as jovial, talking a mile a minute, even slipping in a few jokes. The plan is completely and utterly insane and he can't decide which is more likely to get them all killed- the proposed mission or the fallout if Vance tells Tony no.

But Vance says yes.

vii.

So they go to Somalia. And Saleem pulls the bag off Ziva's head and she's alive, and somehow they're rescued, and they bring her back to the safety of American soil. Maybe it's the return flight or maybe it's the silent elevator ride back to the bullpen when they decide to believe that coming back as a team of four was the plan all along.


End file.
